


Insomnia

by VenezuelanWriter



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Emotionally Repressed, Insomnia, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 16:39:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7648531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenezuelanWriter/pseuds/VenezuelanWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry can’t keep losing so many hours of needed sleep because he’s too busy feeling like this: hollow inside, weak and anxious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote something to make my soul happy because of Flashpoint, but I also wrote something to discharge my little and hurt flashvibe heart.
> 
> (This is angst...)

_"I think of you, I haven't slept..." -Coldplay, **"Always in my Head".**_

* * *

Barry needs to do something, _anything_ to fix this.

He can’t keep losing so many hours of needed sleep because he’s too busy feeling like this: hollow inside, weak and anxious.

He’s always known that late at night feelings tend to get more intense, but this is ridiculous. He hasn’t had a proper night of sleep in the last two weeks because when he’s laid on his bed, ready to fall asleep, thoughts begin to pop up in his head and stick around until they’re all Barry can think about. The worst part is that he acts like if he enjoys the pain such thoughts produce him, since he eventually reaches a point where he wants to keep thinking about the subject and he wants to find more things to remind himself that make him sadder.

He ends up falling asleep not before 4 am when he’s too tired to stay awake longer and doesn’t even realize he’s finally stopped thinking. (Wonderfully this stuff hasn’t reached his dreams yet, that would be the last thing he needs).

Barry used to be able to manage his emotions and control them. But they are the ones in control now. He lets his brain beat him and do this to him: damaging him and digging a hole in his chest he feels like he’ll never be able to fill.

He’s tried relaxing and distracting his wandering mind listening to music, but it’s counterproductive. See, he used to have an imaginary clip on his head for every song. Sometimes love songs didn’t make him think of love, and sometimes it was the other way around. 

But now no matter how, all songs lead him back to the same place: Cisco. It could be because Cisco was the one who recommended it to him. Or because Barry knew Cisco liked the song, they’d listened to it together once, or, the worst of all, maybe the lyrics made him think of Cisco because he was a damn romantic.

_Cisco and his bright smile. Cisco and his soft hair. Cisco and his sincere hugs. Cisco and his way to make me laugh._

How the hell and _why_ , most importantly, does Barry keep doing this to him? Why does he spend so many hours detailing the perfection of the human being Cisco is, coming up with different assets of him to then list off an infinite list of reasons on why they’d never be together and stay just as friends? Barry's started to wonder if he’s a clinic masochist, indeed.

He’s even texted him some of the nights he’s stayed awake. He likes to think it calms a little bit his anxiety –and it actually works. He enjoys so much getting a text back from Cisco, knowing he’d made him laugh or simply that he was there, always a text away, that he actually gets to forget considerably his prior sadness.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t always get a text back from him. That’s usually when, instead of right after his attacks begin like at 10:30pm, he texts him when he’s already a mess too pained and desperate at 3 am. He can’t even feel bad for not getting an answer, in fact, he’d be surprised if that were the case.

And if he wants to be honest with himself, he blames his tiredness and boredom. He doesn’t fully understand how his brain works, but he’s noticed that when he wakes up the next day after a long suffering night, although he’s tired, it feels like all of his anxiousness and vivid emotions brought to the light were never there.

He’s concluded that if he actually had the time during the day, he’d definitely spend it suffering as well, but since that’s not the reality, he never stops to surprise himself when he remembers at night how calmly he behaved when he was around Cisco that day, compartmentalizing his feelings and fucking coping with them.

Which is exactly why he hasn’t acted on his feelings yet. Why would he risk losing Cisco’s friendship (by the way, that’s the number one reason on his list of why’d they’d never be together) betting on something he hasn’t even understood, that he barely recognizes if it’s not late at night when he’s feeling lonely? He won’t take a chance of doing that if one of the outcomes could wreck him like he knows it would.

 

Tonight is one of the occasions when he’s going to opt for talking to him because the pain is unbearable. They’d spend a fantastic movie night, talked a lot and enjoyed each other’s company; Barry doesn’t doubt that feeling is mutual. But the better a day is, the worse his thoughts get at night.

He types a quick ‘Hey’, unsure of what he’d talk about if he got a reply. It’s not like he’s expecting it, anyway, because Cisco has no reasons to be awake a Wednesday at almost three in the morning.

But God, he’s going to start having a real anxiety attack if he doesn’t talk to him soon. Without considering any longer, he dials his number.

He does it just so he can say next morning that he’d tried it, not at all ready for Cisco’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Barry? Are you alright?” Shit. Of course he would think something was wrong. He was so busy being selfish and inconsiderate he hadn’t thought that he was perturbing Cisco’s sleep for _nothing_. He was the worst.

“Hey, um, yeah, yeah man everything’s good.”

“What happened, then?”

_Right, Barry. People just don’t call each other at three in the fucking morning to chill._

“You know, I’m deeply sorry I woke you up, dude. This really could’ve waited until the morning. I’m sorry, it’s nothing, really.” Barry’s ready to hang up now, hoping that Cisco’s able to fall back asleep easily –He already feels guilty for waking him up.

“No, wait-” Cisco exclaims before Barry cuts him offs. “Tell me if something’s wrong, man. You wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important.”

Barry feels tears creeping into his eyes. His voice croaks when he speaks. “Cisco, ahm…” Cisco sits on his bed, alarmed at Barry’s voice. “Can I just – can I go to your place?”

Cisco’s voice is comforting and soft. “Sure, c’mon.” He’s just put his phone down when he listens to Barry’s racing feet entering his apartment and then moving at normal speed when goes to his bedroom.

Barry steps awkwardly into Cisco’s room; he’s always felt that he’s sort of invading people’s privacy by doing that (even when Cisco’s already assured him he’s welcomed in his personal lair).

Barry isn’t ready for the sight he meets; Cisco is wearing a loose alien emoji shirt and gray shorts. His hair is tied up in a disheveled high bun and his eyes are tired, though his face is of authentic concern. He realizes they've never seen each other in sleeping clothes and ugh, he feels weird about that –which, in turn, makes him feel stupid.

“Hey,” Barry whispers with a weak voice. His eyes are a little teary and slightly red but at least his vocals chords aren’t trembling as they were a moment ago.

“Dude, what’s wrong?” Cisco asks. He gives some room for Barry on his bed, moving to a side so Barry can sit and talk about whatever the hell has him this mortified. Barry’s avoiding his gaze and Cisco notices. “Talk to me.”

“Listen, Cisco…” This is it. He’s feeling the feels now. He’s gathering the guts to do it. It’s three in the morning and he’s talking to Cisco. It’s now or never. “I just-” he takes it back. “I really needed to see you and make sure you were fine.”

Cisco is confused. “Why wouldn’t I be? Why do think I’m in danger?”

Barry sighs, looking even more distant. “You’re not… I’m not making any sense lately. I don’t know if I want to talk about it, really. I think I should go back to my place so you can sleep…”

“No,” Cisco quickly answers, “you can stay. I mean, if you want. If it would make you feel better.”

Barry smiles sadly. “Yeah, I think so.”

Cisco opens his arms invitingly, offering Barry comfort he knows he needs. Whatever that has him in such state of distress, it must be fairly bad.

Barry hesitates if this is a good idea, but he can’t resist those open arms so invitingly and warm.

Cisco starts getting sucked out of reality for a moment, a sensation he’s become familiar with: he’s getting a vibe. Hugging Barry he sees his friend laying on his bed, crying bitterly. It’s a contagious feeling, it starts to absorb him and when he’s back to reality, he pulls apart and sees Barry in the eyes, his sad and lost looking eyes.

“Barry, you’re in serious pain,” he states firmly. It’s not a question, but Barry just affirms it.

He nods in acceptance. “I am, Cisco.”

“Why, Barry? _Please_ let me help you.” He’s so worried Barry has gotten into trouble, that Iris or Joe have, that he’s being blackmailed or harassed in any way. Why else could he be this affected?

Barry debates again if he should tell him or not about this. It’s a bad idea, he knows it, he knows this could go horribly, wrong, but... He knows that if he doesn’t do this now when he’s feeling mildly ready for it and in a mildly appropriate moment, he’ll never do it. Plus, he doubts he could handle this mess any longer.

“You?” He shrugs, smiling sadly, starting to cry. Cisco raises his eyebrows, he’s confused and worried he’s put Barry in danger or offended him accidentally. “I’ve fallen in love with you,” Barry confesses, checking as a mistake his words right after they’ve come out of his mouth. His tears become more fluent as he sees Cisco’s mouth moving mutely, obviously looking for something to say but not finding anything.

At Cisco’s lack of words, Barry confirms that this has been a huge error.  “I’m sorry,” he whispers, wiping off the waterfall of tears that are rolling down his cheeks and starting to move in order to get the hell out of there before this gets even worse if possible. Cisco’s hand appears on his leg, stopping him.

“Don’t leave,” he murmurs. “And _please_ Barry, stop crying.” He’s evidently concerned for seeing Barry like that and it's reflexed in his features.

“Cisco you don’t understand-” Cisco leans in and kisses Barry’s lips briefly, as if he’s scared he might break him if he presses any further.

Barry whines and he’s surprised, and the soft lips on his own disappear too soon. He bites his lower lip when the kiss is over, his eyes stopped crying but he still feels confused and the mix of emotions he’s having must not be healthy.

Cisco kisses him again and this time, he’s more prepared. Barry cups Cisco’s cheeks and Cisco’s arms are behind his neck. Barry has spent so much time thinking about this that it seems unreal and too good to be true, even like if he’s not enjoying the moment to its fullest.

Cisco climbs on top of him, breathing him in. Barry embraces him and hugs him as Cisco’s arms move around his waist.

They lay down, Cisco on top, and as they pull apart Barry is perplexed. “I’m so tired of missing you,” he whispers.

“You don’t have to anymore.”

They share more innocent and some not-so-innocent kisses before they hug to fall asleep, and Barry has never rested better in his entire life.

 

 

Barry wakes up, alone and in his bedroom. He checks his phone. He'd received a text from Cisco at 3:16 am: “Hey, what's happened?”

* * *

_"We both know that the nights were mainly made to say the things that you can't say tomorrow day." -Arctic Monkeys, **"Do I Wanna Know?"**_

 


End file.
